


Territory

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bathroom Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Marking, Possessive Behavior, Scent Marking, Scenting, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 21:31:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11261406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kuroo stakes his claim on an omega.





	Territory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [studiotrigger (GunsForTheMafia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunsForTheMafia/gifts).



> happy belated birthday gaen i hope you enjoyed

The smell was going to drive Kuroo insane. Before the match, he’d heard Lev grumbling about how the visiting team they were playing against were using dirty tricks. Kuroo had just scoffed at him—they were both established, skilled college volleyball teams from their respective prefectures. So what if Karasuno had a higher proportion of omegas on its team than most? It was nothing they couldn’t handle, and certainly not a _trick_.

                  Now, Kuroo was beginning to consider eating his words. It was only one of their omegas, but one was more than enough. He smelled good enough to drive Kuroo fucking crazy, and he couldn’t even tell which of them it was. In the confusion of unfamiliar events on the court, it was hard to make out who’s scent was who’s. He doubted it was the pretty silver-haired beauty with perfect omegas hips—the bench was too far away for Kuroo to be catching his scent that strongly. There were only two other players on the team short enough to be omegas, and Kuroo had no idea which of them was putting out a scent like that.

                  Whoever it was, they were fucking intoxicating. Kuroo had never met an omega who didn’t smell temptingly sweet, unless their alpha was possessive enough to mark them within an inch of their life and keep them smelling more like musk than omega, but this was something else. Kuroo had caught a snatch of the scent near the beginning of the match and it hadn’t left his head since. It wasn’t even particularly _strong_ , just _intense_ and _good_. They smelled like an omega near to heat, maybe even one staving it off with scent blockers that very moment. Either way, they were close enough to being good for breeding to make Kuroo salivate. The scent was just so _enticing_ , Kuroo couldn’t help but imagine slender legs parting to show off thighs shiny with slick. Even if he didn’t know what his face looked like.

                  And it was throwing him off his goddamn game. He’d missed blocking more than one ball from the other side of the net that had been launched right at him, and fumbled a few of his own throws so badly that even Kenma’s setting couldn’t save him. He could feel Yaku glaring holes into the back of his head hard enough to make a cold sweat break out on his neck, and he wasn’t the only team member Kuroo had drawn a disappointed stare from.

                  The captain gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to make his team lose a match just because some omega he didn’t even know had missed a dose of their suppressants. Even if it was _so_ good, and _so_ sweet…

                  Nekoma lost. Not by much, Kuroo tried to console himself, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t an undeniable loss. None of them were happy about it; they just barely shook hands with the opposing team before shuffling off to the changing rooms, all grumbling among themselves.

                  “What was the matter with you?” Yaku caught up to Kuroo to smack his arm with an irritated huff. “You fucked us all.”

                  “There was an omega. I don’t know which—but they were about to go into heat. I couldn’t…” _Concentrate_ , Kuroo finished in his head, but aloud he just trailed off sheepishly. The deeply unimpressed look on Yaku’s face told him that his excuse was not nearly good enough. _Fuck him_ , then, Kuroo thought; a little childishly. Yaku was an omega too. He had no idea how tempting his own kind could be, his body just didn’t respond to scent in the same way.

                  “It was that blond one.” Yamamoto huffed, coming up on his other side. Kuroo gave him a quizzical look— _blond one_? Karasuno’s omega had red hair. Although he supposed one of the other one’s had a blond streak…

                  “You didn’t throw the whole match, though.” Yaku said, then gave Yamamoto a faintly derisive look. “Even if you weren’t at the top of your game, either.”

                  Yamamoto flipped him off.

                  “Some omegas smell better to some alphas than others.” He gave Kuroo a pointed look. “Obviously Kuroo’s one of ‘em.”

                  Kuroo huffed, but he could feel his cheeks flush faintly. It felt—silly, knowing that he’d been more affected than the rest of his team. Humiliating, even, coupled with their defeat.

                  In the changing rooms, as everyone was getting ready to leave, Kenma announced, “Shouyou said his captain invited us for drinks.” He was sitting on the bench, tapping at his phone, and Kuroo leaned over to see the screen curiously.

                  “All of us?”

                  “Apparently they don’t want to foster bad feelings.” Kenma explained, listless as ever. Kuroo straightened up again, glancing around his teammates with one eyebrow raised. He was met mostly with shrugs and ambiguous mumbling, and so he sighed. Obviously he had to make the decision for everyone.

                  “Fine, then.” He said. “We’ll go.”

                  Kenma looked pained. “…I’ll ask which bar.”

                  The team that had kicked their asses had fairly decent taste, at least. By the time Kuroo had herded his teammates to the bar like sheep, Karasuno were already there, milling around the bar. Kuroo made his way to where the captain was sitting, his silver-haired omega halfway in his lap.

                  “Nice to see you again.” He said, too polite, with a too polite smile, holding out his hand to shake.

                  “Likewise.” The other captain responded in kind.

                  Kuroo turned to greet the others at the table and noticed that they were, respectively, the redheaded and libero omega from Karasuno’s team. More importantly, neither of them were carrying that oh-so-tantalising scent he had caught on the court. Kuroo’s brow furrowed. If the scent hadn’t come from either of them, then where…? The memory of Lev grumbling about a trick came back to him, and it put his hackles up. He could appreciate a healthy amount of underhandedness—people in high school hadn’t called him the _scheming captain_ for nothing—but outright cheating like that rubbed him the wrong way. Pleasantries over, he turned to head for the bar. God only knew that he could use a good drink after a match like that.

                  He had almost reached it when he caught the scent again, eyes widening and dilating. There was an omega at the bar, and it was the same omega who had been playing in the match. The scent was exactly the same, just as sweet and intoxicating. It was enough to make Kuroo change his course a little—still going for the bar, but now he wanted to sit where the omega was sitting.

                  His eyes scanned the people seated at the barstools, trying to figure out which of them could be his mystery omega. He hadn’t actually figured out, exactly, what he planned to do once he did find them, but it would be _something_. A scent like that was far too good to go to waste. If they didn’t want to be courted, then he at least wanted a quick fuck.

                  None of the people at the bar looked much like omegas, though. Kuroo knew he probably shouldn’t rely so heavily on stereotypes of what an omega ‘should,’ look like, but he had always thought that, for that particular set of prejudices, there was smoke where there was fire. Most of the omegas he came across in his life had been small and feminine and pretty. That was just, usually, how biology worked.

                  As he scanned the bar again, his eyes caught on a head of pale hair, remembering what Yamamoto had said. _It was the blond one_.

                  There was a blond man at the bar, and the more Kuroo looked at him, the more he was certain that he had been on the court earlier that day, playing against them. The guy with freckles sitting beside him was definitely Karasuno’s pinch server, if nothing else.

Also, the more that he stood relatively close to him, the surer he was that he was the omega putting off that _fucking scent_. When he edged a few sneaky steps closer to the blond at the bar, his mouth practically started watering, heart skipping a few beats. It was definitely him.

And thank fuck that it was. Even sitting down, it was obvious that he was taller than most omegas, but that was fine, because he was _beautiful_. Pretty face, bright eyes, elegant hands loosely holding onto the glass of whatever he was drinking, slender calves delicately crossed as his feet dangled in the air. Even if he hadn’t smelled as good as he did, Kuroo would have been fucking helplessly, hopelessly attracted to him.

Trying to be nonchalant, he took a seat at the barstool next to the blond omega and ordered a drink, taking a few bracing sips before he turned to tap him on the shoulder.

The omega didn’t turn; just glanced over his shoulder at Kuroo, golden eyes flicking up and down his body once before pausing at his face.

“What?” He asked, already haughty. Kuroo couldn’t help but lick his lips—he liked a bit of attitude anyway.

“Just thought I’d say hi.” The alpha replied with a winning smile. “You’re Karasuno’s… middle blocker, right?”

“I’m the one who’s good at it, yes.”

“I’m sure your teammate would think those were fighting words.”

“I’m sure that I wouldn’t care.”

Kuroo leaned back a little, then, regarding the omega where he sat. He really was pretty, but icily so as he sipped at his drink, apparently indifferent to any indirect distress he might cause. If he was aware of how he smelled, his unflappable exterior didn’t show it.

Kuroo was kind of hard. He preferred an omega with attitude to unquestioned submission anyway.

“What’s your name?” He asked. Even if he could remember seeing him on the court, he couldn’t remember what his jersey had said. Admittedly, if he hadn’t been paying enough attention to win the game, he hadn’t been paying enough to remember names.

“Tsukishima.” The omega replied. “You’re Kuroo.”

“Astute observation.” Kuroo responded. He shifted on the barstool where he was sitting, leaning in just a little closer to the slender omega and watching his eyes widen in response, pupils fattening up. If he didn’t know about the scent that he was giving off, he would soon; an omega that close to heat would be responding to an alpha’s presence a lot more dramatically than usual.

“Tsukishima,” He said smoothly, ignoring the vaguely-panicked looks his freckled friend was shooting him over his shoulder. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I think you need better scent blockers.”

If Kuroo had said that to almost any other omega in the world—except maybe Yaku—they probably would have reacted with mortification and so, if he was honest, that was what he was expecting Tsukishima to do.

It was not what Tsukishima did. Instead, the omega just smirked at him, his golden eyes sparking wickedly.

“I appreciate your concern, but my scent blockers are the best money can buy.” He informed Kuroo, taking another measured sip from his drink. “It’s just that I missed my dose this morning.”

Kuroo blinked. “That wasn’t very clever of you, Tsukki.”

The blond omega’s eyes narrowed sharply at the nickname, so Kuroo filed away knowledge of its effects for later.

“I don’t think you understand.” Tsukishima said. “I missed my dose on purpose.” Kuroo really didn’t understand, at least until he added casually, “I just don’t think alphas who think with their dicks so much deserve to be seen as incredible athletes.”

For another moment, Kuroo was still confused, until the smirk on Tsukishima’s face widened a little and everything clicked into place. His own face flushed, then, anger flooding his veins— _fucking cheat_. But was it really cheating for Tsukishima to just let his natural scent come out? There were no rules that omega athletes _had_ to use scent blockers, no matter how distracting that scent could be to the alphas on the court.

It was a dirty, underhanded, _clever_ thing to do, and for that last part Kuroo couldn’t help the rush of arousal he felt along with fury, hardening his dick the rest of the way. His fingers clenched into fists, mind tugging back and forth between whether he wanted to shout at Tsukishima or mount him.

“That’s a pretty shitty way to win a match, Tsukishima.” He settled on saying. The omega just shrugged, still smirking, still infuriatingly attractive.

“It worked, though, didn’t it?”

“Tsukki…” The freckled beta next to him warned. No matter what else was going on here, an omega’s scent didn’t lie—Tsukishima was close to a heat. He probably _had_ to be warned, since he was in no fit state to recognise an angry alpha as something potentially dangerous, instead of attractive. In fact, Kuroo wasn’t sure if maybe he was just imagining it, but he could swear that he could smell the omega’s scent getting stronger, responding to the pheromones he was putting off himself. _Yes, alpha, come closer, I’m interested_.

The whole thing was a dangerous cocktail, and if Kuroo was a smart man he would not have wanted any part of it. So he got up, clearing his throat and making an offhanded goodbye before he walked away, intent to go and find somewhere to sit in the bar that didn’t tempt him in such terrible ways.

He didn’t know if the wind changed or his instincts just got the better of his inhibitions for a moment, but as he was turning to walk away he caught Tsukishima’s scent again and realised that he could not. As ridiculous as it often could be, he _loved_ clever, cruel omegas who refused to obey the rules set out for them, and even more when they were as pretty as Tsukishima was. He’d walked over here in the first place intending to claim whoever smelled so good, and he still wanted to.

Kuroo knew that he had no excuse, ever, for bowing to his instincts, no more than anyone else did. But knowing he shouldn’t didn’t make it any easier for him to ignore what biology demanded he do. Tsukishima smelled so _good_ , and Kuroo was under no illusions that other alphas wouldn’t soon start swarming, showing their interest.

He wanted to stake his claim before that happened.

There were ways to scent omegas subtly; hanging around them, brushing against them casually, subtle little shows of interest that might put off other alphas who saw it. That wasn’t good enough for Kuroo, when his hormones were raging like this. He wanted something more _obvious_. Since he doubted that Tsukishima was going to let him get close enough to mark his neck or rub up against his scent gland, that left Kuroo with few options.

He felt like he was watching himself from above, thinking _no, stop, idiot_ , as he deftly undid his belt and pulled down his fly. Tsukishima had turned back to his friend, unaware.

Kuroo wrapped his fingers around his cock as he pulled it out, still half-hard from the omega’s scent. He squeezed himself idly, licking his lips as he watched Tsukishima for a moment, just admiring the curve of his waist and his hips. _That’s all mine_.

“Hey.” Kuroo stepped forwards to grab Tsukishima’s shoulder with his free hand, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to keep him in place. The omega turned halfway towards him, mouth open to say something that Kuroo never heard; he just gasped instead, his eyes widening as he felt the warm spray.

Kuroo pissed on Tsukishima, masking his omega scent with his own, strong and alpha. The message it left for any _other_ alphas was clear: _this is mine_. Tsukishima made a noise in the back of his throat that was fucking _delicious_ , a low whine that was needy and omegan enough to turn a few heads. Everyone saw what was going on—Kuroo wasn’t exactly trying to make it subtle—but no one attempted to intervene. It was far from uncommon for an alpha to mark their territory this way, even with an omega they barely knew. Kuroo was just staking his claim now, before anyone else had a chance to, and that was acceptable.

Tsukishima didn’t protest either, not in words or actions, although he shivered faintly in apparent disgust once Kuroo finally let go of him and tucked himself away; pausing a moment to look at the dark wet patch he’d left on Tsukishima’s jeans and the back of his shirt, making the fabric cling to his skin.

“What,” The omega hissed. He was blushing—it looked pretty on his pale face, strawberries and cream. In his periphery, Kuroo could see that the beta friend looked mortified, but he didn’t much care. “The fuck was that for?”

Kuroo shrugged, careless.

“I like an omega with some bite.” He smirked faintly. “I thought that people should know.”

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes, but he still didn’t argue. Like the way he’d simply sat still and let Kuroo mark his territory, it was instinct. He wasn’t going to resist an alpha’s claim on him, especially not if he was interested in that alpha. He did, however, make a scoffing noise and get up from where he was sitting, stalking off towards the bathrooms. It left Kuroo alone with the beta, but he didn’t much mind.

“That was rude.” He noted, but Kuroo just shrugged him off. Perhaps it was stereotypical alpha assholism to think it, but he wasn’t surprised that a beta didn’t understand. They didn’t have the same instincts, didn’t rely so totally on scent and pheromones to navigate the world.

“I promise you,” Kuroo said. “He didn’t mind.” Omega instincts or not, he’d have gotten a slap if Tsukishima had.

Kuroo _did_ feel a little guilty though—just slightly, but it was there. There was always a chance that he might have gotten a negative response. It was just pure luck that he hadn’t, and even then, Tsukishima had quite the mess to clean up; the downside of an otherwise strong and quick way to mark an omega. He’d never done it before outside the privacy of his own home, with prior consent and quick clean up available.

In the end, he didn’t feel guilty enough to regret it, but he _did_ feel guilty enough to bid a brief goodbye to the beta and get down from the barstool, heading off towards the bathrooms. He wanted to apologise to Tsukishima, if nothing else. But he also had to admit that maybe he was hoping for a little something else too.

The men’s rooms were empty when he peered inside, so he curiously pushed against the door of the disabled stall. It swung open, revealing Tsukishima standing in front of the sink, trying to wash out his jeans—which meant that he wasn’t wearing much of anything anymore. Kuroo could almost, _almost_ see the curve of his ass cheeks just peeking out beneath the hem of his shirt, and the sight was mouth-wateringly tantalising. Kuroo allowed himself a moment just to look, since Tsukishima was seemingly too distracted by what he was doing to notice him in the mirror, before he cleared his throat.

“Hey.” He said. The slender omega jumped a little, reflexively starting to turn around before he seemed to think better of it and stayed where he was, so that he wouldn’t expose himself any further. Alert gold eyes watched Kuroo in the mirror, and the alpha slowly eased the door shut behind him. Tsukishima’s scent was getting stronger again, responding to his own, and he didn’t want any of that delicious smell getting out if he could help it.

“Hello.” Tsukishima replied coldly, breaking their gaze so that he could go back to washing up his clothes. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to come and apologise.”

Tsukishima snorted. “Why would you want to apologise? You got what you wanted.”

“I didn’t.”

Kuroo licked his lips when he said it, and in front of him he noticed Tsukishima go still. That was all he did, though—there was no tension in the set of his shoulders, his body still loose and relaxed. But Kuroo was pretty fucking sure he was faking that relaxation. He could smell something else now, too, on top of Tsukishima’s sweet omega scent: slick, still sweet but muskier too, even more tempting. It was one thing for an omega’s pheromones to betray their interest, and another entirely for Kuroo to be able to smell that one was wet. The alpha inside him roared.

“What is it that you want, then?” Tsukishima asked, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, hip cocked. He had gorgeous thighs, Kuroo thought, smooth skin with a gap at the top. He had to shave.

“We’re both grownups, Tsukki.” Kuroo laughed. He leaned against the wall next to the door, rather than in front of the door itself, so that the omega still had a way out if he wanted one. No matter how much his instincts clamoured to breed, he didn’t want it if Tsukishima didn’t want it. “I don’t really wanna pretend that you don’t already know that.”

Tsukishima was the one who licked his lips then.

“Alright,” He admitted. “I do know that. What of it?”

“Well, are you interested?” Kuroo smirked a little. “’Cause I think I made it clear that I am, but I’m really not interested in people who aren’t interested in me.”

Tsukishima just looked at him for a long moment in the mirror, before his pretty lips curved upwards in a small smirk. It made his gold eyes light up in turn, and Kuroo’s stomach leapt. _Fuck_.

“If I wasn’t interested,” The omega said, his hips swaying idly where he stood at the sink. Even that small movement was tantalising enough to make Kuroo’s mouth want to start watering. Tsukishima was just too good. “I would have told you to get the fuck out of here already. I _would_ have slapped you when you started pissing on me. But I didn’t, so…” He shrugged, still looking devious as he met Kuroo’s gaze in the mirror.

Well. Kuroo smirked right back at him, before he reached down to flick the lock on the door closed. He really didn’t feel like being disturbed.

The alpha crossed the room in a few long strides, closing the gap between himself and Tsukishima. He didn’t grab yet, just put his hands firmly on his waist and moved him to one side, moving him so he stood in front of the wall instead of the sink. He pressed him forwards, crowding him up against the tile until he heard a sharp exhale. Tsukishima let him move him how he wanted, but he wasn’t wholly passive—his hips pressed back, grinding a little to feel Kuroo’s hardening cock press against his ass.

“Was it your plan all along to get fucked,” Kuroo wanted to know. “Or just a happy coincidence?”

“Happy coincidence.” Tsukishima replied. When Kuroo rocked his hips forwards, a mirror of the omega’s own movements, his voice took on a breathless edge that made desire coil hot in Kuroo’s belly. “I just wanted to win the match.”

“Good for you.” Kuroo laughed lowly, nosing along Tsukishima’s neck. He pressed little kisses against his skin to listen to the noises the omega made in response, digging his nose into his scent gland to inhale. That was pretty much the only place, now, where Tsukishima’s scent wasn’t masked by Kuroo’s own. “You smell like me.”

“No shit.” Tsukishima snorted. His hips had taken on a smooth rhythm now, rocking in circles, pushing back on his dick. He was sure there was slick all over his clothes, now, but he didn’t think he had a right to complain about Tsukishima getting him messy.

“I am sorry.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That attitude earned Tsukishima a quick bite on his scent gland, making him gasp and jolt. Kuroo’s hands wandered idly down the length of his body, feelings his narrow waist and his hips before wandering further, sliding around behind to cup and squeeze the omega’s ass, kneading it in his hands. When Tsukishima moaned it was almost musical, and Kuroo couldn’t help but let his hands dig in harder, putting bruises on his skin.

“How many more marks do you want to give me?” Tsukishima said, and then shivered when Kuroo spread him open. He tilted his head to get a good look at his pretty pink hole, twitching needily and shiny with slick.

“As many as you’ll take.” Kuroo purred into his ear in response, sharp wicked teeth nipping at the lobe. A shiver ran down his spine, heat coiling in his stomach at the thought that he had this gorgeous omega all to himself. “I want everyone to know that you’re mine.

Tsukishima moaned in response—and then again, louder, when Kuroo took the opportunity to unzip and take out his cock, pushing forward. He watched the head stretch Tsukishima’s hole and pop inside, drawing a ragged gasp from the omega. One of his arms wrapped around his chin chest, feeling him tremble against himself as he pushed deeper and deeper inside until he’d bottomed out.

“Holy _fuck_ , you’re in my _fucking_ stomach.” Tsukishima moaned, resting his forehead against the bathroom mirror while he panted for breath. The view was gorgeous—if he looked down, Tsukishima’s ass was spread open around his cock. If he looked up, he could watch him flush and pant from pleasure.

“Thought omegas liked it deep.” Kuroo teased. He didn’t give Tsukishima much time to adjust, because Tsukishima didn’t need it; it was almost sickeningly easy to pull his hips back and thrust forward again, listening to the omega’s breathy little sigh. His insides gave no resistance, soft and wanting.

So when Kuroo thrust again it was harder, a sharp jolt of his hips that was enough to make Tsukishima jump and cry out.

“That’s more like it.” The alpha growled. His lips moved over Tsukishima’s throat, kissing and nipping at the skin there as he worked his hips into a rhythm of short, punching thrusts, never pulling out too far so he was always buried deep inside him. Encouraged by the breathy, high noises Tsukishima was making, Kuroo’s hands wandered; up under his shirt, running along the flat expanse of his stomach, playing with his pink nipples. He worked marks into his skin, feeling the omega shudder around his cock every time he bit down and left purple bruises in his wake.

When he rolled his hips forwards at an angle that made Tsukishima wail, Kuroo kept going. His hand slid down again to find the omega’s small cock, dripping and leaking against his stomach. His fingers curled around it, jerking in time wih his thrusts.

“Kuroo, God, Kuroo, fuck—” Tsukishima started to pant, twitching and squirming, and in the mirror Kuroo flashed him a savage grin. He swiped his thumb over the head of the omega’s cock and watched him come, shaking, nearly screaming. He was smug for all of a moment before he felt the way Tsukishima’s insides squeezed and fluttered around him while he rode out his orgasm, and then Kuroo only just had time to pull his hips back far enough that he didn’t knot his omega when he came too, groaning low in his throat while he filled him up.

“Fuck.” Tsukishima sighed again when it was over, and Kuroo pulled his cock back; watching Tsukishima’s hole drip his cum for a moment. He hummed his agreement, nuzzling at the omega’s neck.

“You don’t smell like me anymore.” He lamented, and listened to Tsukishima laugh.

“I really do.”

“You cleaned up, I mean.”

“Well, next time don’t mark me in a way that’s so easy to clean.”

Kuroo still had an arm wrapped around the omega, so he growled playfully and squeezed him tight. “Maybe next time I’ll do it inside you.” He said, to hear Tsukishima moan. He could act disgusted if he wanted, but he was still an omega.

Once Kuroo’s grip had relaxed, Tsukishima turned around in his arms. He bent to pick up his jeans again, turning the front pocket inside out until he found a pen. Then he grabbed Kuroo’s hand, scribbling something down on the back of it. While Tsukishima put his jeans back on, Kuroo tucked himself away and read the number that he’d written on his skin. When he looked back up, Tsukishima pressed a kiss against his cheek.

“Next time.” He murmured, smirking and wicked again, before he disappeared back through the bathroom door. Kuroo blinked, surprised for a moment, before a grin of his own spread across his lips.

Next time, indeed.


End file.
